


Danse Vital

by agapi42



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, Happy Ending, Hecate being ridiculously dramatic, freak magical accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agapi42/pseuds/agapi42
Summary: Ada could almost believe she was sedately and gracefully dancing, drifting slowly in a circle with her hand upraised, if it weren’t for the way the edges of her blur in and out of existence.Hecate is trapped as a result of a freak magical accident and Ada has an important role to play in her rescue.





	Danse Vital

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to cosmic_llin for the beta! Any mistakes are those I reintroduced mucking about with it afterwards.

If she closes her eyes, Ada can still see Mildred Hubble, almost falling into her office, eyes wide and face ashen.

“Miss Cackle, it’s Miss Hardbroom—”

She replays that sickening lurch in her stomach over and over again.

It's almost preferable to having her eyes open.

 

Hecate stands in front of her, though ‘stands’ isn't the right word. It implies a certain solidity and stability, as in all the times she stood by her. Hecate isn't standing. Ada could almost believe she was sedately and gracefully dancing, drifting slowly in a circle with her hand upraised, if it weren’t for the way the edges of her blur in and out of existence. Her eyes are closed and she’s smiling slightly, just a shadow at the corner of her mouth. Ada’s thankful that, whether or not Hecate is conscious of her predicament, she doesn’t seem to be frightened or in pain. It might even be beautiful (she’s always beautiful) if it wasn’t so exquisitely awful.

 

Piecing together a complete and coherent tale from a jumble of panicked second years was not an easy task but it’s clear, at least, that it was entirely an accident. A hiccup over a spell in one part of the room and a stumble while carrying a potion in another, occurrences which intersected at the exact point in time and space that Hecate cast her transference spell. A freak concatenation of events. While Hecate will doubtless have strong words for the second years on the subjects of control, precision and the responsible handling of magical materials once she’s recovered, Ada’s relieved there was no malice involved, misdirected or otherwise. If this had resulted from one of Ethel and Mildred’s disputes...

 

“Ada, I told you to rest,” Gwen scolds, entering the potions lab.

Ada turns to her, waves a hand. It goes too near Hecate, bounces off the jelly-like consistency of the air, an invisible barrier between them, and Ada has to turn back almost immediately, blinking back sudden tears. “While my staff work through the night?”

“You’ve a fair few hours on Dimity and Algie,” Gwen reminds her. “And Cordelia knows that library like no-one else.”

“She should have gone home hours ago.”

“She mirrored her family so they wouldn’t worry.”

Silence falls between them. Hecate turns in her delicate circle. Shadows crowd Ada’s mind, possible futures where they can’t save her. Declaring this potions lab out of bounds; the room growing dark and dusty; Hecate in the middle of it, still turning, still trapped, untouched by time as Ada grows older and generations of girls learn and leave; still here, alone, long long after the name Hecate Hardbroom has been forgotten, just a curiosity or a rumour or nothing at all. Worse still, watching helplessly as she fades, less and less present every day, her heart and her mind and her smile gone for good, the possibilities ended.

“Waiting never gets any easier. I know.”

Ada’s breath catches in her throat and for a moment she feels like a teenager again, having tea with her mother and grandmother and Miss Bat as her grandmother asks if she’s courting anyone. She turns again, taking a few steps towards Gwen, who clasps her own hands together and gives her a small nod. Oh, she knows her well.

Dimity Drill barrels through the door and stops her in her tracks, saves her from responding. Her first words make Ada’s heart leap.

“We think we’ve found something.”

 

“So our main difficulty,” Dimity explains, having caught her breath, “has been that we can’t reach her, right? Can’t reach her, can’t affect her, all our spells are useless. But we think we can break through.”

“Shouldn’t we all be here?” Ada frowns. “Combine our magical strength to give us the best chance of succeeding?”

“Well, no. Cordelia and Algernon are researching alternative avenues in case this doesn’t work but—” Dimity casts a look at Gwen, who tilts her head. Ada can’t quite decipher what it is that passes between them. “The thing is, it’s a very individual kind of magic. One that requires a strong emotional connection.”

Oh.

“I see,” Ada says calmly. “What is it you need me to do?” She will do it, whatever it is, anything that is within her power. There is no choice here.

Dimity quickly pulls a book from vanishment, hands it over. Ada opens it to the bookmarked page and reads.

“If you can make it through, you’ll act as a conduit between here and...” Dimity gestures. “There. A stepping stone of sorts. Don’t let her go.”

“I see,” Ada says again, vanishing the book and closing her eyes. Taking deep breaths, she turns towards Hecate, forms the spell in her head, tries to slow her racing heart.

“By thyme and dandelion cloud,” she begins, opening her eyes and taking a step towards Hecate. Hecate, her closest friend, her dearest heart. “By leaf of bay and flowers proud.” Another step. “It’s Hecate I wish to free.” Another, and she raises her hand, pushes at the barrier between them. “It’s Hecate I wish to free. It’s Hecate I wish to free. Come to me, my Hecate,” she adds softly, and is able, finally, to wrap her fingers around Hecate’s upraised, curled hand, to step forward into her orbit and pull her close with a hand on her waist, to turn with her as if waltzing together. A pearlescent mist shrouds their true surroundings from her sight.

Hecate’s eyes open slowly.

“Ada?”

“It’s all right, Hecate.”

“Where am I?”

“With me. Stay with me.”

“Always,” Hecate murmurs, knits the fingers of their upraised hands together, curls the fingers of her other hand round Ada’s shoulder. “Am I dreaming?”

“Do you often dream about dancing with me?” Ada asks softly.

Hecate frowns briefly. “There’s no music. There should be music.” She waves her hand, replacing it on Ada’s shoulder as a note begins to sound repeatedly.

It’s not until the violin comes in that Ada recognises the piece. “ _Danse Macabre_ , Hecate?”

Hecate only smiles and Ada has to lean into her to stifle her giggles as they sway together; wonderful, _ridiculous_ Hecate.

As the music continues, Ada’s able to tug Hecate from the small, closed circle, to take sweeping, gliding steps, keeping a close hold of each other. It crosses Ada’s mind to wonder what this looks like from outside as she throws herself into a twirl, falling against Hecate giddy and laughing. How strange that dancing to death’s tune in this borderland is the most alive she’s felt in quite a while.

“You’re not dreaming,” Ada admits as the music reaches a quieter section, turning her face up to Hecate’s and drinking in every line. “There was an accident. You’re going to be fine. I’ll keep you safe, I promise you.”

“I know.”  Hecate closes her eyes, opens them again, seeming to search her face. “But, Ada... if anything happens, believe me, it’s not your fault.”

Ada’s hold on her tightens involuntarily. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she insists, in blatant denial of recent and current events. “I...” she takes a deep breath, forces herself on. The spell relies on her emotional connection. She can’t keep Hecate safe if she’s dishonest. “I couldn’t bear it if it did.”

“Nor I you,” Hecate whispers, so quietly that Ada, close as she is, struggles to hear her over the music. The way she moves her hand from Ada’s shoulder to her cheek speaks much louder. Ada wants to close her eyes, turn into it, but that means losing the ability to see Hecate, here, now, in this moment on the cusp of their future. “After every crisis I lose my nerve. I would never wish to jeopardise our place in each other’s lives but I want to tell you that I...” Hecate’s eyes widen as Ada brings her hand up to cover hers, holds it tightly. “Ada? Ada.” Her lips tremble into a smile. “Darling Ada.”

“Hecate, dearest.” Ada smiles, beams back, quite sure she will split with happiness.

The music swells and she becomes quite preoccupied, not noticing the tug of magic till the coda is abruptly replaced with Dimity Drill’s shout, almost drowning out the exclamations from the other staff.

It saves an announcement, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's interested, the quiet bit in question starts about 4:06 [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyknBTm_YyM) and yes, I have listened to this a lot.


End file.
